I Shoulda Thoughta That..................

Last night, the phone rang. Not my phone, THE phone. Doyle wanted to meet this morning. And in a new place.

I may have mentioned before that I go to Dunkin' Donuts for breakfast - a lot. Especially this time of year, when they have their iced tea on sale. Any size for a buck. You can't beat that. The closest one to me is on St. George's Avenue, between Main and Green Streets, in Woodbridge proper. It's a 15 minute walk from my place. I used to go there a lot before I got my car. Not so much now.

Doyle wanted to meet at 9:30. I got to the small strip mall where the Dunkin' Donut shop was located very early, about 8:45, so I sat inside and had a chocolate chip muffin with my iced tea. At 9:15, I walked out of the store and turned left.

There's a park right next to the strip mall. Bernie Anderson Park. (It's not really much of a park. More of a narrow strip of grass alongside a road that runs between St. George and School Street.) Doyle wanted to meet in the park's gazebo.

It was cool there, in the gazebo, in the shade. I sat there with my iced tea, and waited for Doyle. It didn't take him long. He came walking up from the School Street side.

"Hey, Denny! How're ya doing? Told ya I'd be in touch more often." He came in smiling, wearing jeans, sneakers, and a golf shirt and carrying a cup of coffee from a deli on Main Street.
"Hi, Doyle. No suit today?"
"Nah. Decided I needed a break. Been pretty busy lately." He sat down and stretched out his legs. "Nice here. Remind me to thank Craig for finding this place."

We sat in the quiet for a while. Enjoying the stillness.

"OK. So, Doyle, why the meet? And why out in the open like this? Do you have something new on Gordon?"
"Not really. There hasn't been any sign of him for weeks. We're not sure why, but...let me ask you a few questions."
"Why? I don't know anything about Gordon."
"I know. Just humor me."
"Fine. What do you want to know?"
He paused, sipped his coffee, then nodded to himself.

"You take a lot of different pills for your heart, right? I mean,.. you know,.. since the transplant."
"Yeah. So?"
"Bear with me. What do you take?"
"You want the names?"
"No. Just what they're for."
"OK. I take something to control cholesterol.."
"Right. They switched you to a different one last month but you had ..call it a bad reaction, so they switched you back."

I looked at him.

"you don't miss a thing, do you?"
"We can't afford to. Now go on."
"Alright. I also take a couple of different pills at different times of the day to control blood pressure.."
"And you take these because?"
"As I understand it, when they took out my damaged heart, they severed the nerves. They didn't reattach them when they put in the new one. Because of that, I'll never feel it if I have a heart attack. I take these meds to reduce the risk."
Got it. Makes sense. But there are other ...meds...that you take that are even more important, aren't there?"
"Sure. The anti-rejections meds. I'm on a pretty low dose, but there are 2 different meds that I take. Each of them, twice a day, probably for the rest of my life."
Anti-rejection you said, right? So you take them to prevent your body from rejecting the new heart."
"Right. The meds are really immuno-suppressants. They suppress my immune system so that it doesn't attack the new heart. I believe every transplant patient has to take them, regardless of the replaced organ."

He was looking off into the distance during this part of the conversation. Now he nodded, and looked right at me.
"These are prescribed by your doctor, and supplied by your pharmacist, right? How does that work?"
"Really? well, the prescriptions are only valid for a couple of refills before they have to be renewed. And I do have regularly scheduled blood tests to see if the dosage on any of them needs to be changed."
"Why do they do that? Wouldn't the dosage stay the same?"
"No. There's a level that needs to be maintained. Too high and my other organs could be damaged, too low and my risk for rejection increases....Why the sudden interest in my health, Doyle?"
He smiled. "Sorry, Denny. It's not your health we're interested in. It's Gordon's. Remember, he's a transplant recipient too. And, we're pretty sure he hasn't been able to refill his anti-reject scrips for quite some time."

Now it was my turn to pause.

"You think that the reason he seems to have stopped has something to do with his no longer having his medications?"
"Some of the medical staff do. I'm not so sure. Anyway, he doesn't seem to be operating outside of New Jersey anymore. It's still our thinking that he's keeping tabs on you, and will eventually get in contact. If he is facing some kind of rejection situation, that may be sooner then later."
"What if....."
"What if.. what, Den?"
"What if he's dead already?" I said it.
"No. Not Gordon. He won't go out without some sort of gesture. All of the shrinks agree on that." He stood, shook his coffee cup to see if there was any left but threw it out anyway. "So do I."

I stood up too. We shook hands.

"Gotta go, Denny. Keep in touch and enjoy the weather."

He walked back towards School Street. I stayed there a while longer.